


Santa's Coming For Us

by the10amongstthese3s



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Anne Boleyn is Kevin McCallister kin, Beheaded Cousins, Christmas Fluff, Cleves is literally down for anything, Gen, Kitty is a sweet baby, One Shot, Very brief mentions of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21807541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the10amongstthese3s/pseuds/the10amongstthese3s
Summary: The concept of Santa Claus is absolutely terrifying to Katherine Howard. Thankfully, Anne Boleyn is always happy to risk causing some slight chaos to help her baby cousin.
Comments: 25
Kudos: 177





	Santa's Coming For Us

The sound of the coffee machine filling a jug at 2am wasn’t uncommon in the queens’ household. God knows Catherine Parr drank enough caffeine to fuel a steam train. That didn’t mean that it didn’t disturb Anne Boleyn though, who was usually sat in her room binging something on Netflix or playing some dumb video game that Cleves would inevitably beat her at the next day, no matter how much she practised.

What was uncommon at 2am was the sound of Katherine Howard’s bedroom door squeaking shut as she snuck into bed. 

Growing alert, Anne climbed out of bed and followed the scent of coffee beans until she reached her baby cousin’s bedroom. There were only two reasons Kit would be awake at 2am; either she had a nightmare, or she had never gone to sleep. Either way, Anne knew the teenager probably needed some comfort.

Giving a gentle knock, Anne didn’t bother waiting for a response before slipping inside. There she found Kit holding an incriminating mug to her lips, staring at the door like a deer in headlights. “Annie, I-“ Before Kit could panic and make up an excuse, Anne shushed the girl, stealing the cup from her hands, leaving the room without uttering a single word.

Kit was beginning to panic that she may be in trouble when Anne re-entered the room holding two mugs filled with a much sweeter smelling liquid. 

“Hot chocolate. I hear it’s way nicer than coffee,” Anne commented with a smirk, handing Kit a cup before taking a seat on the bed beside her. Kit just gave a small nod and took a sip, keeping her eyes focused on the whipped cream overflowing her cup.

After a minute of drinking in silence, Anne set down her mug on the bedside table and finally spoke up. “So,” she said, ducking to make eye contact with the nervous girl, “you ready to tell me what’s going on?” Kitty just gave a shrug at this, holding onto the paw of one of her teddy bears for comfort. 

Knowing the girl was going to take a little more prompting, Anne laid down, resting her head in the younger girl’s lap, staring up at her. “Come on, Kitten. You know you can tell me anything. Beheaded cousins for life, right?” Anne said, making the girl give a small smile. “Promise you won’t laugh?” “Oh, absolutely not - I laugh at everything! But I do promise I won’t laugh as much as when Cleves fell down the stairs the other day,” Anne teased, making the girl roll her eyes with a giggle.

Once Kit’s laughter stopped, an adorable blush grew across her cheeks. “It’s just… Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Kit explained, tangling her fingers in Anne’s hair, “I can’t stop thinking about that story Parr read us. I know Santa is nice and he brings gifts but…”

Suddenly, the situation came into focus for Anne Boleyn. Of course, the story of a strange, fat old man sneaking into your house whilst you sleep would scare the abused teen. How did none of them even think to consider that? Jane had found it adorable that the girl believed in Santa. Parr had insisted on reading her stories about the fabled man and his elves. Nobody had suspected that the thought of it had been depriving the girl of sleep, scaring her to such an extreme extent.

Giving a sigh, Anne pushed herself up and pulled the younger girl into a hug. Kit froze at this. She’d been expecting the immature queen to tease her for being scared of children’s stories, not to hold her so tightly. 

“Nobody is coming near you, Kitten. Not with us around,” Anne promised, kissing the girl’s temple, “I’ll make sure Santa knows he’s not welcome here, okay?” Giving a nod, Kit nuzzled into Anne’s side, finally allowing herself to relax for the night.

Anne didn’t get much sleep that night, she was too busy plotting. Devising a plan.

Kit was still fast asleep when Anne snuck into Cleves' room at 7am and proposed the idea to her. There was no way in hell that Anne Boleyn was going to allow a dumb urban legend to ruin her baby cousin’s first Christmas in this new world. Their first real celebration as a family.

The rest of the day went by normally. Jane had them all decorate Christmas cookies and, later on in the evening, Aragon took them all to town to see the Christmas markets and carollers singing hymns. Kit was beginning to think that Anne had forgotten the events of the night before as the girl never once mentioned it. Instead, Anne opted to drag the younger girl onto rides and force Parr to play the silly carnival games with her whilst Cleves slobbed out on schnitzel.

It was already 10pm by the time they got home so Jane quickly ushered the girls to their rooms. “To bed with you all. Come on Kit, love. Santa’s coming, remember? We need to all get tucked up in bed so he can deliver our presents,” Jane commented with a smile, making Kit tense up slightly. “Anne doesn’t have to worry about that. She’s definitely on his naughty list,” Aragon teased, receiving a light slap on her arm in response. “You too, Catalina. Bed!” Jane urged, making the woman raise her hands to feign innocence, before backing into her bedroom. 

Not seeming to notice Kit’s discomfort or the way she tugged anxiously at her sleeves, Jane gave a small chuckle and kissed the girl’s forehead. “Sleep well, love.” “You too, Janey,” Kit nodded, closing the door behind herself.

It was an hour or so later when Kit heard a knock at her door. Immediately, the girl froze up. Was it already time? Was he already here?

“Just me, Kitten,” came a familiar voice, making the girl relax as the door opened to reveal her grinning cousin holding out a hand. 

“Come on, kid. I have something to show you.”

Kit wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Maybe Anne had bought some outrageous gift for one of the other queens? Maybe she’d stuck up funny decorations, like the time she stuck up the posters of Shrek in the middle of the night? 

To her surprise though, Kit found Cleves standing beside the fireplace with a baseball bat. Before she could ask what was going on, Kitty noticed the strange-looking contraption in the fireplace.

“We couldn’t find a bear trap so we decided on a few glitter bombs,” Cleves commented with a smirk, seeing the confusion on the girl’s face, “just be careful with the tripwires. That glitter is gonna be way harder to clean than the stuff you spilled in the dressing room.”

Taking a moment to register what was going on, Kit looked back and forth between the two women for a moment before diving into Cleves’ arms. “Thank you! Both of you,” Kit beamed, almost crying from the overwhelming emotions surging through her. Of course they wanted to protect her. They would never let some fat man in a red suit hurt her, no matter how many elves, or reindeer, or magical powers he had. 

Santa didn’t stand a chance against her protectors. Her family.

The others didn’t mention it when they came down that morning to find the girls curled up together, fast asleep on the couch, Anne’s sword laying in its sheath on the ground beside them. Aragon covered them all with a blanket whilst Parr put their weapons somewhere safe and Jane got started on breakfast.

Waking to the smell of pancakes, wrapped up tightly between Anne and Cleves, Kit knew this was going to be a good day. She had nothing to fear anymore. Not in the safety of their home, at least.

Spotting Parr sat on the other couch, Kit couldn’t help her excitement as she jumped to sit in her lap. 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS, PARR!”

That’s right. It would be merry. Their day would be perfect. Their first Christmas.

Well, it seemed it would be perfect anyway, until a curious Catherine of Aragon pulled on one of the strange wires in the fireplace, filling the entire room with a glittery, pink explosion. Cleves was right, it really would be harder to clean than the glitter Kit spilled in the dressing room.

Then again, what Christmas Day is really completely perfect?

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading!! 💚 I've had this idea in my head for a week or so but I've been on holiday in England (seeing SIX!) so haven't had a chance to write it down. I hope you liked it!! Any comments are always appreciated 😊🦆


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